Expected Results
by Ozlex
Summary: The Alpha pack has started passing judgement on Beacon Hills, and they start by forcing Derek to bite Stiles. Stiles was never meant to be a werewolf though, and it's now a race against time to save his life. Hopefully the Alpha pack won't interfere while they do. CANON pairings, set after season 2
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf**

**I thought I'd start with a cold opening that is so often used in Teen Wolf. The next chapter will go back to the day before and explain how we go here. This story is completely Canon, and we won't know for 9 months whether it actually happens in season 3. Again this story is CANON **

**Prologue **

Since all the madness began what seemed so long ago Stiles knew this was always a very real possibility. His best friend was turned into a werewolf because he went into the same woods as an Alpha, Stiles had been hanging around and generally annoying werewolf's for the better part of a year. There was a part of his mind that always knew it would come to this - maybe not this exact situation Stiles thought looking around him at the craziness the night had turned into. There was even a section of his brain that wanted it to happen, which craved for the power.

None of its inevitability though made the situation any less horrifying.

The hand around his throat tightened bringing his full attention back to the deadly Alpha Alpha – Stiles still didn't know the proper title of an Alpha's pack Alpha, behind him. He could feel the claws dig into the skin of his delicate neck breaking through to let a trail of blood run into the collar of his green t-shirt, forever staining it a gross maroon colour. He couldn't help the gasping yelp that escaped his mouth. He guessed he shouldn't bother saving face though when every wolf in the clearing could smell the fear exuding from him in torrents. It didn't stop the teenager at least trying to appear tough.

"Well what is it going to be? Should I just rip his throat out now or are you going to give him the bite?"

The casual way the ultimatum was given by the Alpha Alpha, left no doubt in Stiles mind that if Derek didn't speak up in the next couple of minutes he would brutally kill the teenager and think nothing of it. Even though he knew the choices were be turned or a horrible death he couldn't help but meet Derek's eyes with his own and plead with him to find another solution. He had made this decision once and nothing had changed. There may be a small part of his brain that wanted to be a werewolf, but Stiles figured that part was really small… like tiny. Stiles had seen and experienced how much drama had been brought to everyone around Scott after his transformation and he just couldn't do that to his Dad. He already worried enough about people wanting to kill his Dad because he was Sheriff he wouldn't add himself to the list.

Stiles managed a small shake of his head to Derek, clearly conveying his wish to not be turned to the best of his ability. It was made more difficult by the inhumanly strong hand, which was currently cutting off his air supply. Derek Hale nodded in acknowledgment but also let out an almighty sigh as he tuned his gaze away from the captive human. Unfortunately his eyes landed on Scott who was struggling to rise on the other side of the clearing. Keeping an arm firmly wrapped around recently broken ribs, Scott's head swivelled from Stiles to Derek and back again. There was a desperate look in his eyes and Stiles really hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid. His best friend had already had his ass handed to him once that night. Only Scott could think he could take on five Alphas and an Alpha Alpha by himself.

"No! Derek you can't. He doesn't want it."

"WHAT CHOICE IS THERE?" Derek suddenly growled his eyes turning red in an attempt to subdue the Beta knowing that if they tried anything they would all be killed instantly. Turning back to the rapidly blue-faced boy Derek so often imagined chocking himself he had no choice but to give in. "Fine I'll give him the bite, just let him go."

The Alpha Alpha took a moment to gauge the seriousness of the other Alphas statement before suddenly throwing Stiles to the leafy ground at his feet. Scott jumped forward to where his friend was desperately panting for breath trying to regain previously restricted oxygen. His sudden movement caused a ripple of action from the other Alphas surrounding the clearing. Only the raised hand of the Alpha's Alpha held them back from attacking Scott again.

"Beautiful oxygen" Stiles choked out from the ground finally getting his breathing into a semi-controlled state, his hand rising to his neck to cover the still bleeding claw marks. Stiles was also grateful to have his best friend by his side rubbing his back supportively. Hey if you're going to be in the woods surrounded by threatening Alpha werewolves you might as well have your best friend by your side.

Looking up he saw the outstretched hand of Derek Hale. It was an uncommonly polite gesture from the constantly grumpy wolf especially towards Stiles. Grasping the older mans forearm Stiles hauled himself off the forest floor, but found himself unable to raise his eyes knowing what that man was about to do to him. Expectation lay heavily on everyone as they watched Derek wolf out still keeping a firm hold of Stiles' arm. It seemed even though they were forcing Derek to give the bite, it was something the Alphas held sacred. Stiles would have found the intense focus very intimidating if his mind wasn't running a mile a minute with other concerns. The most prominent being 'this can't be happening. I said NO. I don't want to hurt anybody…what will my Dad think. This cannot be happening'

Derek and his now hair covered face leaned in closer to his own. Stiles noticed a low growling noise emanating from the Wolf. He guessed Derek was angry at being forced to do this and the basic futility of their situation. Quietly he said, "I'm sorry Stiles" his voice a deep gravel while in his half changed state.

Again Stiles couldn't prevent the single yell he made as he felt the wolf's jaw close around his left clavicle. The extended canines dug into his flesh, transmitting their curse into the wound as easily as the bright red blood flowed out of it. And just like that it was done Stiles had finally succumbed to the inevitability of running with wolves. Stiles was bitten by an Alpha. With a ceremonial precision each Alpha from the visiting pack raised their heads to the sky and howled. Stiles didn't feel like celebrating with them.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: **This chapter is more of an introductory to what's happening in Beacon Hills since the end of season 2. Let me know if you think I got the interaction between Scott and Stiles right. Also there are lots of 'Stiles gets turned into a werewolf' stories out there…. This is not one of them.

Chapter 1

_**12 hours earlier**_

Stiles blared the horn obnoxiously knowing exactly what he was doing to Scott's delicate werewolf ears. He could almost imagine Scott's wince and corresponding growl as he hurried to meet Stiles outside in his jeep.

'Hey if you're going to be late, you have to be prepared for the consequences', Stiles thought with a malicious chuckle. It may have been a bit mean, but Stiles deserved some payback after what he had to put up with over the last three weeks.

An Alpha pack had to arrive in Beacon Hills, just in time to ruin what was supposed to be an epic summer break. After Jackson finally became the werewolf he always wanted to be, Stiles thought they would have at least get a small amount of time without supernatural drama. He had made plans to lie back under the summer sun and just get a hold on the massive changes to his life, which occurred over the last year. He even made training plans; one for Scott to hone his wolf abilities and another for himself so he would make Lacrosse captain in the up-coming school year.

Instead a pack of Alpha werewolves had rocked into town with the intent of judging Derek and his pack. It seemed the noise created firstly by Peter Hales' pyscho revenge trip, and then the whole Matt Daehler revenge trip via kanima had brought out the big wigs of werewolf hierarchy. Werewolves, Stiles knew didn't appreciate loud noises, especially when it risked public exposure and attracted hordes of hunters.

Speaking of werewolves who didn't like loud noises, Scott finally rushed out the door duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a harried look on his face. He was almost at the Jeep when he realized he forgot to lock the door and turned around again. Just for good measure Stiles let his hand slam on the horn again, letting his grin widen when Scott jumped and threw his hand up to cover his ears.

"Dude, lay off the horn." Scott whined as he threw his bag into the back seat and slid into the passenger side. The seat might as well have his name embroidered into it since Scott had claimed it since Stiles first bought the second hand Jeep. A disturbing image of Scott claiming the seat in a slightly more wolfy way flashed across his mind and he involuntarily shuddered. Best friend or not if Scott peed on his car he was being eviscerated.

"Well, you shouldn't have been late." Stiles smirked obnoxiously. In reply Scott just growled and mumbled something along the lines of two-faced jerk.

"You can't really blame me though buddy, remember I'm not supposed to know about their being anything special about you at all. Including super sensitive hearing. I was just selling the role."

"Yeah sure." Scott scoffed, not believing his friend for a second, but understanding where his frustration was coming from.

Scott sighed, he understood because he was just as frustrated with the situation as Stiles. When Derek informed them that there was an Alpha pack in town he was understandably annoyed. Since he became a werewolf it really was one thing after another. It had been decided by majority vote – Stiles had been against the idea, that they should keep all humans out of it. It seemed one of the golden rules of werewolf society was to keep humans in the dark and not attract hunters. The Hales were doing a great job of demolishing both these staples with their escapades.

To keep them safe Stiles, Mrs. McCall and Lydia had to pretend they knew nothing about werewolves. Stiles was particularly worried about Lydia because if the Alpha pack found out she had been bitten by an Alpha and not only survived but didn't turn into a werewolf she would be killed immediately. Derek said something about the idea of someone being immune, mortally offending the uptight Alphas.

Scott like usual was particularly worried about Allison. The Argents had a very different story they were required to sell. Neither party wanted a full-blown war to break out between the Alpha pack and the Argents. The Argents were the most famous werewolf hunters in the business and not even the tippy top of werewolf hierarchy wanted to battle them. All the Argents had to do was show they were following the code and that they had dealt with their members who did not and nothing would escalate. The problem came with Allison. Granted she didn't kill anyone, but for a while she had strayed from the road of sanity and thrown the code to the wayside. Oh and their was also the fact she had been in a relationship with Scott to cover up. Basically most werewolves and especially the Alpha pack frowned upon relationships between wolves and humans. A relationship between a werewolf and a hunter would probably cause one of them to have a stroke.

They were all in this juggling act of lies together. The cooperation was a nice change, but Stiles knew it was only a matter of time before the lies came crashing down around them. Hopefully he was just being his usual pessimistic self, unfortunately the stone of anxiety that had settled in his stomach said otherwise.

"Come on Scott, can you tell me what's going on at least? Surely they can't be listening in while we're driving? When does Derek expect them to be leaving?" Stiles had been starved of information for weeks. There was no way he way he was passing up this opportunity to interrogate his best friend.

"Yeah we should be safe to talk while we're driving, but don't talk about werewolves or anything anywhere else ok. You know how good my hearing is, and they're Alphas theirs is like a hundred times better."

"I still find it creepy, knowing that there are a bunch of werewolves out there who's sole purpose at the moment is to spy on the town." Stiles said, shuddering even as he thought about it. He could almost feel their red eyes boring into his back.

"You're telling me… At least you didn't have to meet them."

Stiles slammed his foot down on the brake coming to a screeching stop. Unfortunately they were still on a main road, which was brought to his attention by the outraged beeping of cars behind him. Granted it was a bit of an overreaction but anyone who knew Stiles knew he overreacted to everything.

"Stiles!" Scott yelled partly in exasperation and partly in actual fear of his life.

"Sorry…Sorry, but seriously you met the Alpha pack. What happened, what did they do?" Stiles rambled as he restarted the jeep moving down the road. His mind was rapidly producing colourful images of what he imagined a pack of Alphas were like. In every one of them they were terrifying.

Scott had to give it to him, because he had been left out of the loop for the last three weeks but Stiles' enthusiasm made him slightly apprehensive. "It was intimidating – that was for sure, but they really just asked questions about Peter, the Argents and the kanima. They didn't wolf out when I was there - except for their eyes, but they had this kind of power about them. It was way stronger than what I've felt from Peter or Derek. I would have done anything they ordered. "

Stiles felt himself cringe involuntarily at Scott's description. Suddenly he was a lot happier to be left out of the loop if it meant a bunch of menacing Alphas didn't interrogate him. "How did you get around the fact they can hear when you're lying?"

"With difficulty… I had to only tell parts of the truth. Luckily Derek and Isaac showed up before they started on any questions that were too in depth and would force me to lie. It was a close call; I had to tell them you were with me in the woods when I first got bitten though. Luckily Derek interrupted right when I think they were about to ask if you knew about me."

Stiles gulped, "Remind me to thank him." In all truthfulness though, Stiles was impressed. Scott may have failed a number of classes last year but he wasn't an idiot – well not all the time. Stiles knew how difficult it was to spin stories around crazy situations with even a semblance of the truth. Obviously he wasn't very good at it because he was quite sure his Dad didn't believed a word out of his mouth anymore, so kudos on Scott for deceiving a pack of Alphas who can tell when you are lying.

"Good news though; Derek heard they were leaving after the full moon next week."

"Thank-god the muscles in my shoulders have been so tense just thinking about their beady red eyes watching me everywhere."

Scott laughed at Stiles' ability to trivialize even the most serious of situations.

"But seriously dude, are you sure that's it? I mean our adventures with the supernatural usually turn out a bit more…. violent then this." Stiles couldn't help but have reservations about the fact the pack came into town to judge them but left without doing anything.

Scott just shrugged he was the eternal optimist to Stiles' pessimistic nature, "I don't know maybe they really were just coming into town to see what the commotion has been about recently. Maybe they didn't find anything out that made them want to maim or kill. Jackson's no longer a kanima, there is a truce with the Argents – kind of, and well Peter at least doesn't have any serial killer tendencies at the moment - because everyone on his death list is already dead, but still maybe that's enough for the Alpha pack."

Stiles cast a sidelong look at his friend grasping at straws. "I hope you're right Scott. I don't think you are, but I hope you're right. You know we have terrible luck, why would it suddenly change now and let the deadly pack of Alphas come to town just for a sight-seeing holiday." Stiles didn't want to be the downer – he wanted the happy drama free summer, but Scott needed to be careful around the Alphas. He needed his head back in reality. They were still in an incredibly dangerous situation until the Alpha pack actually left.

The rest of the car ride was spent on more common topics such as the new James Bond movie, but an air of solemnity had settled over the car that even the best friends usual bantering couldn't break. Just as Stiles was pulling up to the veterinary to drop Scott at work his phone went off. Stiles didn't mind being the taxi service for the day – he had actually offered, because it meant he finally got to hear what was happening on the supernatural side of Beacon Hills. Stiles' curiosity lead him to do many things he would have preferred not to, driving Scott was by far not the worst of them.

Scott had a worried look on his face when he came up from reading his text, "Well I guess you're off the hook tonight. Derek said the Alphas want to talk to me again so he's giving me a lift."

"Ah dude, that doesn't sound good." It felt to Stiles like the other shoe was finally about to drop.

"I'm sure it will be fine." Scott didn't sound very convinced. His optimism it seemed had its limits. "Man I'm late, I'll tell you what happens tomorrow, alright."

"Oh, so you want another free lift to work in my beautiful Jeep tomorrow as well."

Stiles could only laugh when Scott grabbed his bag and turned what were now literally his puppy dog eyes onto full blast conniving power. "Well if you're not doing anything, and you want to hear what happens tonight?"

"Fine, fine I'll even buy a black drivers cap to add to the service."

"Thanks Stiles, see you tomorrow morning at 11." As Scott ran into Dr. Deacon's surgery, Stiles sighed. He didn't like being left out of the loop because it made him worry even more than he usually did. His ADHD addled mind couldn't stop the visions every night of Scott in danger, or injured… or worse. He was worrying so much he decided to grow his hair out just so he would have something to grip onto and relieve his stress. He even worried about Isaac, Erica and Boyd - if he was honest with himself also tiny bit about Derek and Jackson. At least when he knew what was going on, he knew what was going on. His mind didn't create bad scenario after bad scenario each one worse than the last to make up for the gaps in his knowledge.

And so with the maelstrom of worried thoughts circling through his head, Stiles never noticed the determined figure walk up to his car while he was stopped at a red light. He did notice when the man got into his car and grabbed his arm though.

Stiles gave an unfortunately girlish squeal in surprise and was just about to jump out the drivers side, when the man's eyes turned red. He had just been car jacked by an Alpha. 'Hello other shoe' Stiles thought as he was told where to drive under the threat of pain – lots of pain. He didn't think directions to his own doom would need a GPS but it seems he was wrong.

* * *

Next chapter is going to be in Scotts point of view. We'll be going to the immediate lead up and events of the prologue. After that things start getting really interesting. Let me know what you think? What you think is going to happen? What you want to happen? Basically anything... just let me know.


	3. Chapter 2

**_AN:_**I thought Scott would be difficult to write, but he was surprisingly easy. Derek is probably the most difficult - he doesn't show enough of what he is thinking in the show the be easily written. This starts off just before the prologue and goes into much more detail about the Alpha pack. I've used hints and spoiler to come up with my own vision of what they want, and what they will be like. I just wonder how close to what will really happen I am.

**Chapter 2: Invited to Dinner**

It was times like this when Scott really learned to appreciate Stiles and his ability to dispel the awkwardness from any given situation with a few crazy comments or actions. Scott could only wish he had Stiles' skill, because he was currently in what he was officially calling the most awkward car ride of his life.

True to his word, Derek had been at Dr Deacons' at exactly 9 o'clock when Scott was supposed to finish. This led to an increasingly grumpy Alpha as he waited another 20 minutes for Scott to finish all of those last minute tasks that needed finishing before he could close up for the night. When he finally got into the car Derek's only greeting was a growling, "You're late", before he revved out of the car park.

Nothing had improved in the hour they had been on the road. Scott kept on trying to ask questions about what was happening and what the Alphas wanted, but every question was answered with either silence or another growl. He wouldn't even tell Scott where they were going. The last time he met the Alphas had been in Beacon Hills at least, not in the middle of nowhere, which was where they seemed to be heading.

The first time the Alpha pack hadn't invited him anywhere; instead they ambushed him while Scott was looking for Derek in his subway 'lair'. While they were definitely intimidating, nothing else about the Alpha pack was how he expected. There were eight in total, three of them women, and they just looked like normal people. They didn't even seem to have the same preference for leather Derek and Peter had. Scott always assumed that was an Alpha thing, but it looked like it was just a Hale thing. The only ones who really stood out from the rest were the twins. They were exactly the same; they had the same blonde shaggy hair, the same hazel green eyes, even the same scattering of freckles. It was creepy, especially when meeting Scott they both produced the same maniacal grin. The rest of the pack ranged in ages, although most were middle aged, the twins were youngest probably a bit younger than Derek in their early 20's.

The leader of the pack was the most surprising of all though. The man was only 50 or so but in Scott's teenage opinion that made him pretty old. Scott had expected a brooding figure similar to Derek or a self-conceited, up-tight pretty boy like Peter; instead the man he met… was nice. You could tell the man had been incredibly good looking in his youth. His hair – that must have once been sandy blonde, was now grey but it was still thick and full. There were crows' feet on each side of his eyes and lines around his mouth that clearly showed the mans preference for smiling. In fact when Scott met him, he laughed and patted him on the back saying "You must be Scott", in greeting and as a way to break the tension from walking into a room full of Alphas. If Scott had to compare him with anyone he'd say the man looked like an older, friendlier version of Jackson.

As approachable as the leader of the Alpha's seemed, as soon as his hand touched Scott's shoulder he began to tremble. The man exuded an air of power that couldn't be denied. When his bright blue eyes fell on Scott in the old train terminal he had to fight the compulsion to lower his eyes and grant the wolf access to his neck in submission. Everything about the man threw him off kilter and he struggled to stick with the story they came up with about recent events.

The energy in the room suddenly seemed to shift when Derek arrived to 'rescue' him from the interrogation. Before Scott had felt almost welcomed but once Derek stepped into the room, he could finally appreciate just how dreadfully terrifying these Alphas were. Scott assumed they didn't like being interrupted, and was glad he wasn't in Derek shoes when seven red Alpha eyes turned their angry gaze on him. The leader didn't react with anger; he greeted Derek and let Scott leave. It was disconcerting because even when the Alpha was smiling there was something in his eyes that was ancient and deadly. The whole situation certainly gave him a lot to think about.

* * *

When the car finally stopped on the side of the road they were way out in an area of the reserve Scott knew was closer to the lake than Beacons Hills. He had also reached the limit of his patience with the Alpha in the other seat. "Derek, before you get out tell me what the hell you know about what is going on tonight. Why are we in the middle of no-where? What do the Alphas want with us?"

Derek sighed; Scott hoped that meant he was going to tell him something at least. "Look Scott, the truth is I don't know. I received a visit from an Alpha and I thought it best not to stir up any trouble by disobeying when they ordered me to bring you here tonight." A contemplative look came over Derek's face. "I think they have a cabin out here though. I vaguely remember coming out to this area with my father when I was young."

Scott looked up sharply; Derek never mentioned his family and he guessed that was another reason the man was so quiet on the drive here. He was probably reliving a time when his father was driving and he was in the passenger seat. "So we could be walking into the anything… basically?"

"Basically." Derek shrugged. He didn't look too worried but that wasn't at all reassuring. Derek didn't usually show much of any emotion other than anger.

When they got out of the car there was already somebody waiting for them. The woman was in her forties and appeared out of the trees like a spectre in the moonlight. Her hair was long and blonde, pulled into a loose braid down her back and she wore a long black dress with brown boots. The term MILF flitted through his head, but he quickly shoved it away knowing his own mum would kill him for even thinking it.

The woman walked up to Derek and to both the boys' incredulity gave the brooding sourwolf - in Stiles' words, a full hug. She pulled back and cupped his cheeks staring into his face in a maternal manner.

"Ah Derek, how you've grown. You may not remember me, but I used to be liaison with the Hale pack many years ago. I remember when you were just a little thing, always laughing and chasing after your sister." Derek could only look at the woman with shock as she moved away from him. A sad look came over her face and she turned away as if she could no longer face the memory of the happy boy he was once upon a time and the angry lonely man he grew into. "I'm very sorry I couldn't protect them better." Her sentence held so much emotion that when she next spoke it was in stark contrast how emotionless she turned. "Follow me, I'll take you to the rest of the pack."

Scott could see Derek was still in shock. His eyes were distant and he also seemed to be remembering better times when he would chase his sister around the yard. He probably started searching his memories for the face of their lady guide, but became lost in happier times. Scott had to nudge him with his shoulder to shake him free of memories so they could follow the lady.

The pair followed the lady through the woods at a pace that would have left a human far behind, even if they were going as fast as they could. They moved deeper and deeper into the thickening trees until, even Scott and his werewolf sense of direction was turned around. The lady who still hadn't told them her name didn't really speak again except to tell them to hurry every now and then. Scott didn't know what they were hurrying towards, and when he asked, the lady replied, "It is best not to keep Alphas waiting." It wasn't really an answer.

One moment Scott was diligently trudging after the swaying blonde braid and the next, the woman simply disappeared. Looking over at Derek he could see the elder man was just as confused about what happened to their guide. Derek raised his head tyring to sense where the woman had gone, or find anybody else in the vicinity. A strange look came over his face, halfway between denial and confusion, before he suddenly rushed forward. Scott tried to sense what Derek seemed to catch in the air, but being a Beta his senses weren't up to the same standard as Derek.

"Derek, wait up."

Chasing after the Alpha, Scott narrowly avoided crashing into his broad back when they emerged abruptly into a clearing. As far as Scott could tell the clearing was a perfectly circular ring of trees. Although the moon wasn't full until next week it streamed brightly into the space.

Standing in the very centre, beside their 'talkative' guide was the proud form of the Alpha's Alpha with his arms wide open in welcome.

Derek didn't seem in the mood for manners though and was glaring at the pair. "Where is he?"

Scott looked from Derek's growling face to the Alpha's smiling one, his confusion rising by the second, as it seemed he was missing something obvious. "Derek, what do mean? Where is who?"

"All in good time Scott. I don't think I had a chance last time we met to formally introduce myself. My name is Françoise Régis, but my friends just call me Frank.

"Hi, Frank. Where is he?" Alpha Régis – Scott could not see himself calling the man Frank no matter what he said, seemed slightly put out with Derek's continued aggression. The wide smile he had been wearing since they arrived slowly vanished and he laughed to himself as he lowered his arms.

"Well, I see you want to get straight down to business, very well. Scott I can see you haven't picked up on what Derek has obviously sensed. Why don't you let him know why we are here tonight, Alpha Hale."

"Derek…?" Scott questioned.

Derek's eyes flickered quickly over Scott before returning his focused attention to Françoise. "It's Stiles, Scott. They have Stiles somewhere close."

Scott stared at Derek for a few seconds before lifting his head. Scenting the air he sorted through all the unfamiliar smells, looking for the one he knew almost as well as his own. When he caught Stiles' scent he also caught the underlying scent, of fear. Immediately Scott reacted, wolfing out and fiercely growling at the pair in the centre of the clearing, mimicking how Derek reacted minutes ago.

Alpha Françoise merely laughed, "Good now we're all on the same page, bring him out." He said cheerfully like they were talking about dessert at a dinner party, not the kidnaped son of a Sheriff.

Off in the distance Scott caught rustling through the underbrush and before long the creepy twins were walking into the clearing with Stiles stumbling between them. Scott could tell from the look on the twin's faces that Stiles hadn't made the trip easy for them. Knowing Stiles, Scott would bet he didn't stop talking the entire time, just to piss off his captors. He would have laughed at the twin's murderous expressions except he caught sight of new colouring and swelling adorning Stiles' cheek. Obviously Stiles' annoyance tactic didn't go unpunished. Scott could feel the anger inside of him grow at the sign of abuse on his best friend's cheek. With almost no conscious thought he rushed forward with the intention of knocking the twin's identical heads together. He was so focussed with blood lust he didn't hear Stiles cry his name in warning.

Before he knew what was happening, two Alphas appeared between him and where his best friend was being held. The man and woman in front of him looked almost bored as they confronted Scott's growling wolf form. Logic wasn't very prevalent inside his animalistic mind as Scott charged the two Alphas by himseld. Derek meanwhile, sensibly held back knowing exactly how any type of fight would end with the pack of Alphas. He didn't even need the final two of the pack materializing from the trees behind him to get the message, but he took note that they were there.

Scott didn't even land a blow, before the woman Alpha without having to shift, grabbed him by the neck and slammed him straight down into the ground with one arm. The force which he hit the ground made Scott certain that if it occurred on concrete, there would be a very large crater surrounding his body. Looking up from his daze Scott just had time to role out from beneath the males descending foot before it became acquainted forcibly with his head. Growling now with pain as well as anger, Scott charged once again. Using all his strength and speed he attempted to ram into the woman his instinct took for the weaker opponent, instead he found himself brought to a dead stop with the woman's hands on his shoulders. Raising his head Scott came eye to eye with the Alpha female's red gaze and extended face. She hadn't completely shifted but she now wore a muzzle with a jaw full of sharp teeth. With what seemed like minimal effort the woman threw Scott across the clearing into a tree, which cracked across its middle where he hit. Fortunately for the tree it didn't fall down but it was a close call, and it looked like only splinters now held it together. Scott wasn't as fortunate as the tree; he could feel his body attempting to heal from the multiple broken bones and internal bleeding. His sole focus was now on breathing and coughing up the blood filling his lungs. He didn't hear Stiles screaming his name, or see him run forward to reach his best friend's side.

When Scott was able comprehend what was happening around him and not just his body, Stiles was firmly held with Françoise's clawed hand around his throat, and Derek was now the one to partly shift into a wolf from anger. Scott had to admit Alpha Françoise no longer looked as friendly as he had when they first met. The man was menacing and he knew he wouldn't take any more nonsense.

"Betas. They really are like little puppy dogs. Absolutely no control, but just adorable when they think they're being ferocious dogs." Only the twins behind Françoise laughed at the Alpha's joke, the rest just continued to glare at Scott and Derek. "Now that play time is finished we have come to pass judgment on the first issue we've found in Beacon Hills."

Françoise's eyes turned towards Derek and he tutted, "I'm disappointed Derek, I thought we had more history than this. I thought your parents raised you to show this pack respect, but it seems I was wrong. You have purposely kept information from us, including just how involved this human had been in your burgeoning pack."

Derek growled his words coming out dangerous and terse, "You're mistaken, this boy has nothing to do with my pack."

Françoise sighed, "You see, you're lying again, which I know for a fact, but I suppose if you want this boy to die it's nothing to me. You have a choice after all." The werewolf raised his clawed hand in preparation of bringing it down on Stiles' throat taking his oesophagus on its way.

Stiles cringed away from his oncoming death, but just before the hand reached his body Derek, yelled "WAIT…you're right, I was lying. He has been involved with my pack. He saved my life once."

"He saved your life, well I'm impressed. Maybe he was right about this one."

A thoughtful look crossed Derek's face, "Who was right? Who told you about Stiles?"

Alpha Françoise laughed again, the sudden full-bodied sound so close to his ear causing Stiles to jump with fright. "Not everyone in your family has forgotten to appreciate the power held by this pack, or respect the task we have inherited for our kind."

Even with his pain fuddled mind, Scott was still able to imagine 10 different ways he would love to show Peter Hale just what he thought about the mans weaselling nature.

Scott could almost see the same images passing through Derek's mind as he said vehemently under his breath, "…Peter".

"Yes, your uncle informed us all about the antics of this boy among other things. It seems not only does he know about werewolves' existence, he has been actively involved in aiding the werewolves of Beacon Hill for the last year. I also have to agree with Peter's verdict. This Stiles Stillinski would make a worthy werewolf. We cannot risk the affairs of werewolves being so intimately known by a human with no blood ties to our kind. Therefore Alpha Hale we are giving you this choice. You can either turn Stiles into a new Beta… or we will kill him"

* * *

It wasn't really any choice at all and before Scott could even process the reality of the situation, his best friend was on the ground bleeding heavily from the Alpha bite to his shoulder. Finally being allowed to reach his side, Scott gingerly positioned Stiles so he was leaning against him. Scott could now feel Stiles' heavy breathing and the intense trembling through his body.

'Oh God. Stiles, please don't go into shock.' Scott worried to himself. Derek it seemed was thinking the same thing, because he knelt down on Stiles other side and draped his jacket over his front. Derek also got Scott to place his hands over the wound to slow the bleeding, since they had nothing they could wrap it with. When Scott pressed down, Stiles hissed, "Fuuccckkkk…. ow".

Scott apologised half-heartedly knowing the bleeding needed to be slowed down and he was the only one able to help. Derek was once again having an intense staring competition with Françoise.

"It didn't have to be this way Alpha Hale, but you lied to us, and that cannot go unpunished. Our business in Beacon Hills is far from complete, we'll enjoy seeing how this new Beta develops." Françoise was smiling again and Scott was starting to hate that smile more than anything. He looked at Stiles like he had done him a favour kidnapping him and then forcing Derek to bite him.

Scott could see that Derek was losing control of his usually subdued emotions. Nobody likes to feel helpless and Scott assumed that went doubly for Derek, who was born a powerful werewolf. You could practically see the anger and frustration growing in his body language and expressions.

"What do you want with us? The situations were resolved before you arrived. The guilty Argent hunters have been dealt with, and the Kanima is no longer an issue."

Alpha Françoise chuckled as if at some inside joke only he knew, "Oh you think so?"

Derek's eyes narrowed at the implications, "What do you mean? What's wrong with Jackson, he's a wolf now not a Kanima?"

"We'll leave that for another day, for now our judgment has been carried out. Another time Alpha Hale good night to you all." With that last condescension, all the Alpha wolves melted back into the trees. Françoise reminded Scott more of the Cheshire Cat than a werewolf, as he watched his grinning face disappear.

Stiles suddenly expelled a giant breath, like he had been holding it the entire night. "Thank God, they're gone, that guy gave me the bejeebers. Why was he always smiling? And did you see those twins? CREE-PY"

Scott could only marvel that once again, even though he was bleeding on the ground in the middle of nowhere, Stiles was breaking the awkward silence following the wolves' departure. At least he didn't seem too traumatised by his kidnapping, or being bitten by Derek. Suddenly the gravity of what occurred hit him and he realised his friend would never be the same.

"Stiles, I am so sorry. I never wanted this to happen to you." Scott could tell his eyes were filling with tears as he looked at Stiles. Becoming a werewolf had done some good to his life, but the drama and danger it brought to everybody around him was not worth the benefits. He didn't want Stiles to struggle with this the rest of his life as well.

Stiles managed to offer Scott an understanding smile. The two of them had been best friends for so many years there were times Scott understood Stiles better than himself, and vice versa. Scott imagined Stiles could pick up in his guilt with little effort. "That's ok, bro. It's what I get for hanging out with werewolves. I know you didn't want this to happen, but it did, so I guess…. we're werewolf besties now."

Before Scott could reply he heard Derek groan from above. He didn't need to look but he could imagine the man rolling his eyes at Stiles and Scott's conversation. "Are the two of you done braiding each others hair? We need to get out of here, and his wound needs dressing." That was Derek for you - completely incapable of dealing with emotions.

* * *

The walk back to the car was not a fun experience for any of them. Stiles was obviously in pain and his laboured breathing showed he was working from his last reserves. Scott was worried about Stiles couldn't help but keep asking if he was alright, every time he heard him gasp or hiss in pain. Derek also seemed to be worried, but his worries were less about Stiles and more about the foreboding message Alpha Régis left them with. It was therefore another awkward walk and this time Stiles didn't have the energy, or the breath to break it. Luckily Stiles' car wasn't difficult to find, being park just up the road from Derek's. Stiles was no help in locating his beloved Jeep, even though he was the one who drove it to their location. Scott had been supporting his best friend for the last 20 minutes and was now taking most of his weight. If he weren't shuffling his feet along with Scott's gait, he would have assumed Stiles had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

"We need to meet tomorrow and talk about what Françoise meant." Derek said in parting before he left them at his car. As an afterthought he looked at Stiles semi-conscious form draped on Scott's shoulder, "Bring him along as well." Derek's face showed how little he actually wanted Stiles to join his pack – probably the same he wanted a yapping chihuahua to join his pack.

"I would have anyway." Scott smirked.

"Well, now you have my permission." Derek sighed in exasperation before speeding away and leaving Scott to drag his friend to his Jeep. Although it seemed the Alpha dismissed the fact he had just bitten Stiles, Scott could see the look if guilt and curiosity in his eyes whenever they landed on the injured teenager.

Seeing the condition of his friend, there was no question that he would stay with him tonight. Scott figured it was best if they went to his house. His Mum could look at the wound and already knew about werewolves. Scott would have a difficult time explaining why Stiles was sporting a wolf bite, and why they shouldn't go to the hospital. Stiles might have been able to do it, but he doubted his explanations were ever truly believed. Unfortunately when he got home at 3 AM with his sleeping passenger, he remembered his Mum was on night shift. Stiles hadn't said much on the car ride back into Beacon Hills. He managed to mumble out the story of how the Alpha hopped into his Jeep and told him where to drive, and how the creepy twins then manhandled him through the forest. Everything else was pretty incomprehensible and the conversation wasn't helped when he fell asleep against the window.

Stiles jolted awake though when the car stopped in the McCall driveway, "Village of the Damned… what…ow? Where…ow? Oh we're back."

Scott put a supportive hand on Stiles' good shoulder when he hissed in pain as his sudden awakening aggravated the wound, "Yeah come on, lets stop the bleeding."

Stiles looked at his shoulder, which was still bleeding sluggishly onto the seat behind him, "Oh man, I just got the blood out from when Derek was bleeding everywhere."

The next 20 minutes were very déjà vu. It wasn't that long ago that Scott was coming home in the early hours of the morning to clean and bandage his own wolf bite. Scott could clearly remember the pain of the bite on that first night. It felt like his blood was on fire, but luckily that diminished quickly as he later discovered he turned into a werewolf. By the time he got to school the next day he couldn't feel anything, and a few hours after that the wound itself was gone. Estimating from his own experience Scott guessed Stiles would be free from pain by 8 or 9AM the next morning.

As it was Scott was able to empathise with every groan and hiss Stiles uttered because he had been there himself. Stiles was also exhausted and before he had even managed to tape the bandage over the wound his friend had fallen asleep again on the toilet seat Scott placed him on to attend the bite. Scott gave Stiles the bed and grabbed a pillow and blanket so he could camp out on the floor. Falling instantly to sleep, Scott was grateful his mind hadn't kept him a wake worrying about the repercussion of the night. Unfortunately it was only a couple of hours later that he was awakened by the sound of Stiles screaming in agony.

* * *

**AN: **Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up next week, where we really get into the grittiness of whats wrong with Stiles. In Teen Wolf fashion it's going to be quite horror movie gory.


	4. Chapter 3

**AN: **Sorry this chapter's taken longer than I planned. I'd had it written for a week but never got around to proofing it until now.

Chapter 3:

Scott was on his feet before he even realised he was awake. Dawn light was streaming through the window, but he fuzzily realised this wasn't what had awakened him. Scott had never been a morning person but he was ashamed that it took his brain so long to process what he was seeing. Stiles was twisting left and right on the bed, in obvious pain and seeming to find no relief in any position. The sheets were thrown to the bottom of the mattress to become tangled in his legs and Scott could see he was covered in sweat. What frightened Scott most though, was how erratic Stiles was breathing and how fast his heart was beating. Scott could hear it racing with his werewolf hearing, and knew it wasn't normal.

Grabbing Stiles' shoulders mindful of his injured side, Scott tried to get him to focus on his face but Stiles had pushed his face into the pillow. "Stiles…STILES! Oh man…Stiles. What's wrong?... Crap."

Scott was working himself into a panic watching his friend suffer and not knowing what was wrong or what he could do to help. The best he think of, was to sit on the side of the bed and take Stiles' hand. Scott didn't mind at first when Stiles' nails dug into his palm hard enough to draw blood but he's pretty sure he just heard something break. 'Note to self: Stiles has a strong grip' Scott stored the knowledge away among the many other quirks he knew about his best friend.

After what seemed hours - but was probably 10 minutes, Stiles' shaking lessened and he was able to turn his head away from the pillow without screaming. Scott noted his breathing was still highly irregular, but was glad when his eyes floated around the room before locking on his own.

"Scott…?" Stiles croaked, looking completely terrified. His eyes were wild and Scott couldn't help comparing his friend with an injured animal cornered and wanting to flee.

"Stiles, are you OK? What the HELL just happened?"

Stiles looked at Scott with confusion, but didn't reply. The confusion quickly turned into panic and Stiles suddenly sat up straight, his hand rising to cover his mouth. Scrambling off the bed, Stiles flung himself into the ensuite bathroom with Scott following quickly behind. He found Stiles on his knees in front of the toilet throwing up violently. Scott moved forward to place his hand supportively on Stiles' back, but jumped back with shock when he caught a glimpse of what Stiles was throwing up. Scott didn't mind horror movies. He and Stiles had spent many nights watching marathons with the lights turned out. Some of them though, contained images that were particularly gory, and he wished he'd never seen them; Stiles throwing up black blood was one such image. Unfortunately this wasn't a movie, it was reality and Scott knew the image would be burned into his mind for the rest of his life. Something was seriously wrong with Stiles and Scott didn't want to admit to himself what this meant. If it meant what he thought, Stiles was not turning into a werewolf; that was for sure.

* * *

Stiles had never been in as much pain as he found himself now. It had started after only a few hours of sleep. The slight throbbing that seemed to spread from his shoulder, suddenly sharpened into the feeling of red-hot pokers stabbing into his veins. He twisted and turned on the mattress, kicking the sheets to the bottom of the bed where they tangled between his feet. He couldn't escape the pain and it only grew stronger. Sweat broke out over his body, and he couldn't help but whimper into the pillow. He tried to contain himself for as long as possible hoping against hope that the pain would just pass and there wouldn't be any need to wake Scott. The power of positive thinking just wasn't cutting it though, and a sudden flare in his shoulder was the final straw. Stiles screamed as he had never screamed before, finding that the release wasn't diminishing the pain at all. If he were coherent enough to form thoughts, Stiles would have worried about Scott's neighbours calling the police, but as it was the pain was all encompassing. Stiles pushed his face into the pillow in an attempt to stifle the screams while his body curled into a foetal position and was wracked by tremors. Everything in Stiles' universe had faded away into red tinged vision and seemingly never-ending agony. He couldn't tell where he was and he couldn't even tell if he was breathing. What could have only been 10 minutes, seemed like a lifetime.

Eventually a new sensation broke through and he could feel a warm in his own tight grip and hear his name being shouted with panic. The pain continued to diminish, until he was able to take a deep breath without the fear of screaming it out again. Focusing on Scott's voice helped bring him further into reality and boy did Scott sound panicked. Stiles supposed he was panicked about him, which of course he was because Stiles had just had a fit. Turning his head to the side of the now smothering pillow, Stiles was slightly disgusted at how sticky he was. It seemed his clothes were soaked through with sweat, and the pillow was coated in a glistening layer of what he was ashamed to discover were fresh tears. Above him Scott still looked really worried and Stiles thought it wise to let him know it seemed to be over. Unfortunately while moving his head hadn't cause any flare-ups, speaking proved more painful. Even saying one word hurt. Screaming so much obviously hadn't been good for his vocal chords.

Swallowing in preparation of speaking again, Stiles opened his mouth only to clamp it shut a second later. An intense nausea overcame him and Stiles knew he had t-minus 10 seconds to get to the toilet, or a bin. The pain of only moments ago was forgotten in his mad rush to the bathroom. It seemed one moment he was in the bed and suddenly he was on his knees with the toilet in front of him. He arrived just in time. Stiles thanked his lucky stars he didn't trip on the stumble into bathroom, knowing Scott would never let him in his house again if he threw up on his carpet.

'Funny… I don't remember eating molasses' Stiles thought as he realised what was actually coming out of him. It seemed never ending as Stiles was wracked by convulsions bringing up more and more of the toxic looking black blood. At some point he felt Scott rubbing circles on his back, which was nice of him even if it didn't do much to ease his discomfort.

It took a few minutes for Stiles to realise that the black ooze had stoped coming because he was still having gasping convulsions. This was familiar territory for Stiles though. Panic attacks were almost normal at this point, all he had to do was lean back against the support behind him – he didn't realise the support was actually a teenage werewolf named Scott McCall, and think about each breath, forcing them into an even rhythm.

'If there was ever a time for a panic attack now was it', Stiles justified. Something was seriously wrong with him; he was having agonising fits, throwing up supernatural tar, and his mouth tasted like an ashtray in a truck stop bathroom. If now wasn't a time to panic Stiles didn't no when was?

"Stiles…? I think it's time we get you to Dr. Deaton." Stiles craned his head up, just noticing Scott crouching behind him supporting his weight. Scott looked more afraid than Stiles had ever seen him, and through his own trembling he could feel the shaking in Scott's hands where they grasped his shoulders.

Stiles could only nod his head in response still breathing too heavily to talk.

The sudden burst of energy that got him to the bathroom was well and truly used up. All Stiles' limbs felt weighed down with exhaustion and it was all he could do not to fall asleep on the toilet seat right next to its toxic contents. Stiles was eternally grateful Scott was with him tonight, if not for his werewolf strength he knew he would never have been able to get himself off the tiled bathroom floor. There was one more moment of panic after Scott levered him into a standing position when he thought the nausea had returned, but he manage to supress the urge. Scott seemed a little less enthused to be carrying most of his weight when the possibility of being hurled on became apparent.

"Don't worry buddy, Dr. Deaton will know what to do. What do you always say? He's the master of all mystical knowledge… and a doctor, he'll fix you right up."

When Scott was the rambling one and Stiles the quiet of the two, you knew something was seriously wrong with the world. And so the best friends made the rambling trek once again to Stiles' jeep, but not before a stop to the bathroom sink. Stiles didn't think Scott's nose could be anymore scrunched up as he tried to avoid the intense smell of Stiles' foul breath, and even with his miniscule energy levels Stiles relished cleaning his teeth of the bad aftertaste. For good measure he gargled two lots of mouthwash as well.

* * *

Before leaving the house Scott left a note for his Mum. He was glad she seemed to be late this morning coming back from her night shift. If his Mum had walked in on Stiles being violently ill she would have rushed him to the hospital, being the responsible nurse she is. She may know about werewolves now but Scott knew he wouldn't have been able to convince her that Stiles shouldn't see a doctor. The only doctor who could possibly help was Dr. Deaton… or so Scott hoped.

Looking over to the passenger seat as he manoeuvred through early morning traffic, Scott couldn't help noticing how deathly pale Stiles appeared, or the sweat coating his forehead. There was also a dab of black at the corner of his mouth that looked to have been coughed up. At least Stiles was talking. Normally he had to actively drown out Stiles' rambling just to stay sane, but now all he could think was how much better it was to hear Stiles talk instead of scream in pain.

"You don't think I'm turning into a Kanima, do you Scott? Because I just don't think I'm a lizard sort of person…. You know? I mean Jackson's a lizard person - he's totally cold blooded, I can understand him turning into lizard boy, but me… I'm more… I don't know, cuddly. If I'm turning into something other than a werewolf - because you never told me about barfing black blood so it doesn't seem I am, maybe I'm turning into a were-cat or something. I like cats… maybe that's what this is. Stiles the were-cat! It could be like one of those animas where I get the furry little ears and maybe a tail. Yeah that's probably all this is. I'm not turning into a werewolf I'm turning into a were-cat."

Scott looked at his friend sideways, unable to stop picturing Stiles with furry cat ears. "You really want to be a cat?" Scott asked disbelievingly.

Stiles sighed. "…No! Of course I don't won't to be a cat. It's just…it's just better than the alternative." Stiles it seemed, wasn't able to continue his optimism while he was feeling so terrible.

"It's going to be alright. Whatever is going on, Dr. Deaton will fix it… even if you do grow a tail." Scott smiled reassuringly at his friend pulling into the car park where Stiles dropped him off only yesterday. Just one night had passed since he received that text from Derek, but it already felt like another lifetime ago. Driving into the car park Scott also realised a new problem. Dr. Deaton wasn't only a supernatural expert; he was still a working veterinarian with his own clinic. A clinic that was due to open in another hour. People would be coming for appointments any minute now and if someone saw him dragging an increasingly ill sheriff's son into the animal hospital, they would definitely call said sheriff. Especially after last night, Scott knew Stiles wanted his father as far away from werewolves as possible… while still living in Beacon Hills.

When Scott went to grab Stiles out of his seat, furtively looking around to make sure no one was in the vicinity to witness his condition, Scott noticed his trembling was beginning to intensify. Stiles was breathing in short gasps again, and he could hear his heart beat thumping much too quickly in his chest. 'God, please don't start screaming' Scott begged inside his head.

"Stiles are you alright. We have to get you inside." Using his werewolf strength, Scott hauled Stiles out of the vehicle and started in the direction of the clinics back door. He felt almost naked out in the open supporting Stiles' dead weight even as he tried and failed to support himself. Usually they had the cover of darkness when they brought an injured person to Dr. Deaton, and more often or not the roles were reversed and it was Stiles bring Scott for treatment. Now the responsibility was all Scott's and the bright morning sunshine didn't help one bit.

Halfway to the door Stiles, lost all control of his legs and almost brought Scott down with him, but thankfully his werewolf strength saved him again. "Scott… hurry. The pain's coming back… I don't know…. " Stiles stammered out between gasping breathes. Suddenly he grabbed Scott's shirt forcing him to look into his hazel eyes usually warm and amiable but now glazed and unfocused, "Get me to the drugs!"

"Morphine… got it. Hold on Stiles we're nearly there." Moving as quickly as possible, Scott made it to the door and began banging with all his might, and calling for Dr. Deaton.

Dr. Deaton would surely be inside preparing for the day and checking all the animals that stayed last night, but Scott still gave a relived sigh when the doctor answered the door.

"Scott? What's going on…?" Catching sight of Stiles slouched over his shoulder, Dr. Deaton's eyes went dark and he stood back holding the door open for the pair. "Quickly, come in and get him on the table."

By the time Stiles was sitting on the sterile metal table - that for an animal clinic was funnily just the right size for a human, he was hardly breathing except for the occasional shuddering gasp and now shaking in agony. He was almost as bad as earlier when Scott woke up. This time though, Dr. Deaton was there and he immediately injected Stiles with what Scott hoped was a strong painkiller. It didn't knock Stiles out, but he settled down somewhat and it seemed the pain became more bearable. It was only when his breathing went back into a semi -normal rhythm that Scott realised he was grasping Stiles' hand and let go, finally turning his attention to Dr. Deaton who had discovered the bite on Stiles' shoulder.

While cutting away the arm of Stiles' t-shirt and removing the bandage Scott had covered the wound with last night, Dr. Deaton finally asked. "Scott, what happened?"

It was Stiles who answered, a bemused look coming over his face, probably due to the drugs. Animal tranquilisers can definitely make a guy loopy. "It was the Alpha pack. They forced Derek to lay a big ole' bite on me."

Dr. Deaton raised his eyes to Scott's his anger clearly visible, and surprisingly Scott felt the sudden need to defend Derek's actions, "He didn't have a choice. They were going to kill him if Derek didn't bite him."

Dr. Deaton sighed loudly, "I was afraid of that."

Scott didn't know if he was talking about Derek being forced to bite Stiles, or because he had just uncovered Stiles' wound and it looked very different too when he treated it last night. The curved row of teeth marks just below Stiles' left clavicle, which last night had been neat red punctures, were now highly inflamed and you could see black lines shooting from the wound following the zigzag pathways of Stiles' veins. What was bleeding bright red last night, now dribbled the same black ooze Stiles was throwing up earlier. When Dr. Deaton poked at the wound releasing more of the black blood, Stiles yelped and tried to push away from the doctor's invasions but proved too weak.

Do you know what's wrong with him? Can you fix it?" Scott could hear the desperation in his voice and his anxiety only grew stronger at the pitying look on Dr. Deaton's face.

Instead of answering Scott's question Dr. Deaton spoke directly to Stiles. Placing a hand on Stiles' good shoulder and looking solemnly into his eyes, "I'm sorry Stiles, there's nothing I can do. There is no cure for an Alpha bite."

Stiles mouth hung open in shock and his eyes flitted around the room, as he struggled to realise what he was being told. "What…what do you mean?"

Dr. Deaton sighed again - Scott really wised he would stop doing that, before explaining fully. "There are only two outcomes to being bitten by an Alpha werewolf. You're either transformed into a werewolf or werewolf offshoot, or you're body rejects the transformation and shuts down. It's why most Alphas only bite those who agree to it, there's less of a chance of rejection. I'm sorry Stiles, it looks like you're body in rejecting the change."

The room descended into silence. "So…I'm dying." Suddenly, Stiles chuckled darkly causing Scott to shiver involuntarily. "Fan-freakin-tastic."

Scott found himself shaking his head. NO. There was no way he was going to accept that Stiles was going to die. There wasn't a world that made sense that didn't have Stiles Stillinski in it, being his normal boisterous self. Scott couldn't remember a time Stiles hadn't been there for him, from school bullies to parent dramas and tragedies to all the little things in between. Some of his best memories were of the two of them getting into mischief – as their parents would say, and just goofing off. He wasn't giving up on him now without a fight. Scott knew he owed Stiles more than he could ever repay, not only because Stiles stayed around through everything. The only reason he was able to cope with becoming a werewolf was because Stiles was by his side. Dr. Deaton was wrong, Stiles wasn't going to die. Scott wouldn't let him.

And besides he said there were only two options, when clearly Lydia presented a third. Lydia was bitten by an Alpha and she didn't die or become a werewolf. They had already theorized about using Lydia's immunity to cure Scott, but that had been more of a long-term plan. It looked like the deadline – 'no pun intended' Scott thought to himself, had drastically reduced.

"NO! Stiles it won't happen. I won't let it happen." Scott swore vehemently curling his hand into a fist with conviction.

Stiles already looked resigned, even in the face of Scott's determination. It was sad to think maybe Stiles had been preparing for this eventuality for the past year. He may have spoken with his usual sass but Scott could hear the defeat in Stiles' tone, "Yeah… What are you going to do Scott? I've already been bitten and unless time travel is another special werewolf power there is nothing you can do."

Scott tried to shut down his senses, to stop himself smelling the fear radiating off his friend. "We use Lydia. We were already thinking her blood could be used to make a cure for me… why not you?"

Turning to Dr. Deaton where he was trying to give the best friends a bit of room to come to terms with the situation, Scott asked probably the hardest question he'd ever asked, "How much time does he have?"

"It depends on the person. Most people die within two days of being bitten, but I've known of a few who've lived to see four."

The reality that Stiles might be dead in two days hit him, and he almost lost himself to panic but managed to keep his mind on the track of saving Stiles. "Is there anything you can do, to extend that?"

Dr. Deaton suddenly looked thoughtful if a bit weary, "Well… there may be something, but I wouldn't recommend it normally."

"What…what is it?" Stiles spoke up dejectedly from the table, but Scott could see the slightest hint of hope starting to appear on his face.

"Well, if we inject you with wolfsbane, it may help your body fight the infection. It won't cure you, but it will delay the inevitable. I wouldn't recommend it though, Stiles. Your body is going to be in tremendous pain already as you reject the transformation adding wolfsbane will intensify that ten-fold. It won't be pleasant."

Scott thought unpleasant was a massive understatement and by the look on Stiles' face he agreed. He needed Stiles to do this though; he needed time to save his life. "Stiles, please. Lydia survived and if we use her blood I'm sure we can save you too. Plus if we bring Lydia in on this we can use her brain as well. You always say there isn't a problem Lydia Martin can't solve.

Scott heard Stiles mumble, "That's true… I do say that." But when he met Scott's eyes the intensity of Stiles fear almost made him give in and let him go without the wolfsbane. "You don't know how much it already hurts though Scott. I'm not strong like you, I don't think I can handle much more pain."

Letting all his own desperation and fear shine through his eyes as well Scott tried one final plea, "Please Stiles, you are strong… you just don't see it. Do it for me… do it for your Father. Isn't it worth it if it means we have time to save you?"

Stiles broke eye contact first lowering his head at the mention of his Father. Scott knew it was a low blow. Stiles would do anything to prevent his Father from being completely alone. "Alright, you can inject me with wolfsbane, but first I think we have some calls to make. You call Lydia and tell her to get here… I'm going to call my Dad."

* * *

Dr. Deaton walked out of the room knowing exactly how bad the next couple of days were going to be. He guessed he should cancel any appointments that might be coming. The screams would probably carry to the car park.

* * *

**AN: **Get ready for a extremely emotional conversation between Stiles and his Dad. Can you wait... I know I can't. They're probably my favourite part of Teen Wolf.


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry it's been so long guys, I guess I lost some energy with the long wait between seasons. This story will officially become AU starting next week with the premiere of season 3. My Alpha pack was as accurate as I could make it with the information available at the time. I hope this chapter gets some heart strings tugged though, gotta love a Stiles and Sheriff Stillinski scene.**

* * *

Chapter 4

With some help from Scott, Stiles was able to stay standing leaning himself against the wall. Stiles was once again outside Dr Deaton's, with a lovely view of the car park. At least there was a potted plant next to him to add some aesthetics. Stiles wanted to be outside to make this call, if only to see the sun one last time before he entered what was likely to be a living nightmare. For the last 15 minutes or so he had just been standing here, staring at his phone and figuring out what he was going to say to his Dad.

What can you possibly say in a situation like this anyway? 'Hi Dad, I won't be home for a couple of days. I can't tell you why, but if I die I want you to know I love you', just didn't seem to cut it. For one, Stiles did not want his father finding out about werewolves – not after he spent so much effort covering up their existence and for another he had to make it seem like nothing bad was happening so his dad didn't insist on finding him. Above all though, there were things he needed to tell his dad in case he died, but it would be difficult to say those things without making him suspicious.

In the end it was a sharper than normal stab of pain in his shoulder that made him push the call button. The drugs were obviously wearing off, and Stiles knew he didn't have much time before the pain made him incapable of speaking… well other than screaming.

After the past night, Stiles didn't realise just how much he needed to hear his fathers comforting voice until he answered the phone. Stiles could see him in his head as clearly as a movie; getting ready for the day with a cup of black coffee in his hand and a black coffee stain already adorning his shirt, holding the phone with his shoulder as he continued to get things ready for the day.

"Hello?…. Shh, bugger"

Stiles smiled, knowing his vision was spot on, "Hi dad… did you just spill coffee on yourself?"

"Oh Stiles its you, good. What time will you be getting home? I'm pulling a double today so I won't be getting back until late tonight." His dad paused and Stiles could here a rustle of fabric so assumed he was putting on his jacket. "It means though that I have the weekend off so we can finally go fishing." Stiles felt his heart plummet.

"I know what you're going to say 'what's the point of fishing when you have mcCains', but it will be good to do something before you go back to school." Stiles felt his guilt rising with every word. Even though he did hate fishing, he couldn't think of a place he'd rather be this weekend than with his dad on a boat scaring away the fish. Instead he'd most likely be here slowly dying an agonising death.

It was only after his dad started calling his name that he realised he hadn't replied for a minute or two. "Stiles...? Stiles are you still there?"

If his voice caught on the ball of emotion in his throat he really hoped his dad wouldn't pick up on it, "Yeah dad, sorry I'm here… I'm really sorry dad, you wouldn't believe it but Scott and I had exactly the same idea." Stiles tried to infuse in voice with its usual exuberance but was finding it increasingly difficult, "Yeah we were thinking just like you and decided to get out of Beacon Hills for a couple of days, be one with the wilderness, sleep under the stars… all that jazz. We probably shouldn't have watched Man Vs Wild last night."

Stiles could hear his father give an almighty sigh over the phone. He knew being sheriff his dad didn't get much time off and to get a whole weekend would have taken a lot of effort and organising. It was just something new to heap on his giant pile of guilt.

"So what your saying is, you've gone camping with Scott without asking my permission?"

"In a manner of ways… yes. We're nearly at the campsite just getting some gas now. I'm really sorry dad, if I knew you wanted to do something this weekend I wouldn't have gone."

"Stiles, you can't just go off and do these things. You have to ask my permission first."

This was not turning into the conversation Stiles had planned. He couldn't think of anything worse than the last conversation with his father being an argument.

"Dad I'm REALLY sorry. Believe me when I say there is no one I'd rather be hanging out with right now than you."

His dad sighed again, making Stiles feel lower than scum, "I understand… I was young once too you know?" Before Stiles could retort with his usual witty comeback his dad cut him off. He knew him so well. "Don't reply to that, Stiles. Look I get it, you're young, it's the last weekend before school and you wanted to do something spontaneous. I just wished you'd told me first.

The ball in his throat was growing bigger by the second and Stiles wasn't sure he could contain the emotion much longer. There was still so much to be said, but he could tell the conversation was winding down as his father was almost out the door. If only he could get his words around the emotional throat ball.

'Bloody emotional throat ball', Stiles thought angrily.

"Look dad, again I'm SO sorry. This weekend… you still have fun though, I mean don't go breaking down just because I'm not there with you." Stiles chuckled wetly, really hoping his father was too distracted to hear the fact he was talking while tears streamed down his face.

His father obviously didn't hear and sighed exasperatedly, "I think I'll survive."

Trying to sound half way normal Stiles chuckled, "Are you sure about that though dad. I bet you'll spend the entire weekend missing me and eating away your sorrows with the closest take away."

"Oh, was that my son giving me permission to eat fast food. How thoughtful of him?"

Stiles chuckled at this dad's sarcasm - and they wondered where he got it from.

"Nope that's still expressly forbidden. I don't want any shenanigans while I'm gone you hear. That means no junk food, no drinking and no moping. Have I made myself clear?"

"Stiles…" His father growled authoritatively.

"Right, right. That was your line." Stiles went to continue but found the words stuck in his throat again. He felt the call was ending but he didn't want to hang up. Maybe if he stayed on the line listening to his father nothing bad would happen after all. Unfortunately he was roughly pulled from his fantasy by another wave of stabbing pain. Throwing an arm again the wall to stop himself falling to the concrete, Stiles was unable to stop a grunt of pain. His breathing had also become increasingly heavy, and he could only hope it didn't register through the phone.

"Stiles… Stiles? Are you still there?" After another pause filled with heavy breathing as Stiles struggled to gain control of his body, his dad asked the one question he'd been dreading he would ask. "Stiles, are you alright?"

Stiles had been dreading to answer this question, knowing he would have to make the biggest lie of his life. He was as far from alright as you could get, and he knew if he told the truth his father would be by his side in an instant. Stiles wanted that so badly… but he knew he couldn't have it. He couldn't tell the truth. He had to protect his dad.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine dad… I'm going camping…Woo camping." If he sounded abysmally unenthusiastic, with any luck his dad would just write it off as Stiles being the opposite of an outdoors person.

"Stiles…?" Apparently though his dad knew him too well. He could still hear something off about his son.

Stiles would have tried to avert his suspicions but unfortunately time had run out. The drugs were definitely not doing their job, and the pain was coming back full force.

Knowing there was no more time Stiles hurriedly brought an end to what could very well be his last conversation with his dad, "L-look dad… Scott's getting impatient. I've got to go now… just know I'm really sorry about this weekend. I'm sorry for leaving you alone, and Dad… I love you."

"Stiles…? What's going o…" Stiles hung up, cutting his father off mid-word.

Obviously he'd failed at his task of reassurance, but despite that he thought he got his message across. It was the best he could do because the next thing he knew he was sliding down the wall, shuddering in pain.

When Scott came outside to pick him up, he did so silently. If Stiles had been able to see more than blurred colours, he would have noticed the tears streaming down Scott's face and mirroring his own. Stiles would have cursed werewolf hearing and his lack of privacy, if he'd been able to think coherently. Instead all his focus - beyond the pain wracking his body, was on the memory of his father's voice.


End file.
